


What Could Have Been?

by RavenImpulse



Series: What's In the Box? [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, But mostly angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Reunions, this thing is filled with sooo much angst, what's in the box
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-28 13:13:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14449992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenImpulse/pseuds/RavenImpulse
Summary: Reaper goes to see his friends with benefits only to see she is having a really bad day and tries to distract by asking what is in the box she still hasn't unpacked. Little does he know that the box, and indirectly himself, are the reason she is in a bad mood, to begin with.





	What Could Have Been?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking of turning this into a series with most of the Overwatch characters and box they still haven't unpacked, let me know what you think in the comments.

You walk into your room, the doors of your on-base room whooshing closed behind you. You make a beeline towards the kitchen and pour yourself a generous serving of whiskey, downing it in one go. You set the glass on the counter with a loud bang. Opening the fridge to see what you have, not really wanting to go to the cafeteria for lunch. Today has been a day from start to finish. You spilt coffee on your report for Captain Amari, managed to knock your pot off the window ledge, your program didn’t feel the need to run, and not to mention your coworkers. Your coworkers were being beyond stupid, someone thought it would be a good be a good idea to sass Solider: 76 during training. Which lead to him punishing the entire group with a gruelling workout for the next hour and a half.

Your muscles were going to so sore tomorrow. “Maybe Reaper would massage your aching muscles when he gets here,” you thought to yourself. You started sleeping with Reaper about two months after you finished your Overwatch training. You don’t know what it was, you were just drawn to him and didn’t know why. You’ve been sleeping with him for a grand total of six months. The sex was great, and you had no complaints, well besides the fact that he hasn’t actually let you see his face. Any time he takes his mask off he makes you keep your eyes closed or blindfolds you. Have you thought about taking a peak? Yes. Would you ever? No. You respected him too much and needed him to trust you personally and professionally.

If you’re being honest the real reason you’re beyond over today has nothing to do with what happened today, but the day itself. Today marks the 10-year anniversary of Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes being killed in an accident. The world mourned the loss of Strike Commander Morrison. They gave him a fancy funeral and everyone had touching things to say about him. You, you mourned the loss of your partner of three years, Gabriel Reyes.  While the world buried their hero, you buried your best friend. That is when your life really changed. You grew your hair out, dyed it red and switched out your glasses for contacts. You started going to the gym at least 3 times a week and adopted a dog you walked daily. When you heard that Overwatch was looking for skilled programmers and analysis, you applied; thinking this would be the perfect way to honour your late partner.

 Your eyes drift over to the black box sitting beside your bookcase. You’ve lived in this room for six months now and still haven’t unpacked it. Truthfully, it has been with you for every move had since Gabe died, but it hasn’t been opened since it was packed nine years ago. You get up and make your way towards the box and set it on the coffee table. Your hand reaches out, just shy of touching the cover, and you pull it away as if touching the box would burn you. Downing the rest of your glass, you go back to the kitchen and pour another. This time brining the bottle, and an extra glass, back to the living room with you, setting them down beside the box. Sipping your drink, your other hand absently comes up to grip the pendant around your neck. It was Gabe’s army dog tags. He had given them to you before he deployed on his first Overwatch mission. You had worn them ever since.

You let your mind drift off, thinking about the past until a rough voice startles you out of your thoughts. Acting on autopilot, and forgetting about the whiskey glass in your hand, you leap up and lunge towards the intruder with a set of punches meant to disable. The thud of the glass hitting the rug and a familiar chuckle brought you back to reality, “I’m glad to see that your training is paying off.”

“Fuck you Reaper,” you spit, your heart racing in your chest, “You know I hate it when you do that.”

“In my defence Cariño, I did knock. Several times in fact. I was getting worried, everything okay?” You notice him looking around the room, his eyes spying the whiskey bottle, only two thirds full, and the glass on the floor, then back to you. He raises an eyebrow at you and you just shrug in response. You can feel the flush making its way up your face, but truthfully you cannot tell if it is from him looking at you or the whiskey. “You still haven’t finished unpacking yet?” He points to the box sitting on the table.

You can feel the tears starting to form in your eyes, blinking to banish them as you pick up your fallen glass. Moving to sit on the couch you pour yourself another serving, you can feel his eyes on you the entire time, “Do you want some?” You asked, fighting to keep your voice even.

He shook his head, “How much have you had?”

“Bottle was unopened when I started,” taking a sip, “It’s been a rough day.”

“I heard that Solider ran you guys hard today. I’m sorry,” he reaches out to take the glass from you and you let him, “But something tells me that’s not what’s wrong, but you don’t want to talk about it. So, what’s in the box Cariño, why haven’t you finished unpacking yet?”

“Honestly,” you say blinking back tears, “That box hasn’t been unpacked since the day it was packed nine years ago. I can never make myself open it, despite how much I’ve tried. It’s also the reason today has been so hellish for me.”

He looks at you with such concern evident on his face, “Want to talk about it?” He asked, sitting down on the couch beside you.

You don’t know if it was the alcohol or the look on his face, but something inside of you breaks and the full story poured out of you. “Ten years ago today, my partner was killed in an explosion, that would later be classified as an accident. We were happy together and we both had plans for the future that included each other. That’s what convinced me to join up with Overwatch. I thought it would be a good way to honour his memory. I still wear his dog tags every day.” You pull down the collar of your shirt to show him. You thought that you felt that him tense, but you weren’t sure, “That box there is filled with memories of our time together. I was a different person back then, I doubt Gabe would even recognize me if he saw me now.” You definitely felt his body tense up this time. You wondered why.

“May I?” He gestured to the box, his voice tight. You could feel all of the anxiety that generally came with thinking about that box, but somehow with Reaper by your side, you felt stronger. With a deep breath, you nodded your head. You watched as he pulled out a photograph and study it closely, before turning his gaze on to you, “Y/N was your partner Gabriel Reyes?”

“He was,” you affirm with a sad smile, “The world mourned the loss of their hero, I mourned the loss of my love. I still visit his grave you know, every year on his birthday.” Your voice sounded brittle, even to yourself. “I bring flowers to, pink roses just like what he brought me for my birthday every year.”

Reaper stood abruptly. You thought he might leave. The mask blocked his face, but you could tell that something was off with him. You watched from the couch as he grabbed a glass and came back over to sit beside you, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He downs it and keeps pulling stuff out of the box with a sense of urgency and you kept telling him stories behind everything, “What’s in here?” He asks, pulling out a medium sized black bag.

“I don’t know,” you answer him honestly, “They told me it was the stuff from inside his locker that survived the fire. I never open it, but I’m assuming it’s stuff like his wallet, phone, and something for me. I was supposed to visit him the following week, which clearly didn’t happen, I just never had the heart to open it. Go ahead.”

Reaper wordlessly opened the bag, pulling out the items you listed, “There is a sweater in there too, but I’m assuming this is the gift he had for you. Here.” Reaper handed you a black velvet box and your heart jumped into your heart, fresh tears fell down your voice. In the back of your mind, you notice that something is off about his voice, but you couldn’t place it. Once you opened the box you were too consumed with emotions to think of anything else but what was in front of you. There in the box sat a simple but elegant engagement ring. It was a simple white gold band with a princess cut diamond sitting in the middle.

Wordless you set the box down on the counter and instantly start to sob. A fresh wave of grief washed over you. You cried for the life you had, what you lost, and what could have been. Your body shook with sobs. You felt Reaper pull you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you as he stroked your hair. Whispering soothing nothings into your ear until your hiccups subsided and you calmed down. “I’m sorry,” you say dragging the back of your hand across your face, “I know this probably isn’t what you had in mind for this evening.”

“It’s not,” he replied tonelessly before shaking his head, “But you clearly need someone, and I don’t mind being that someone.” He picked up the picture again and stared at it, “You look different, what happened to you Y/N?” He sounded far off. You noticed he had been a little distant since pulling out the first picture. You wonder if he is jealous of your past love.

“Well after Gabe’s passing I was a mess,” you start, your voice wobbly, “I rarely slept, I hardly ate, and I never left the house until the funeral. Someone came to visit me every day, Captain Amari even came by a few times, but I doubt she’d recognize me now, I look so different.” You point to the picture and then back to you, “It’s amazing how much dyeing your hair, ditching the glasses, and going to the gym can change a person. I even took up kickboxing, it was very cathartic. But I still had no real sense of purpose, I did the last semester of my degree online, and now I’m here. Looking back at it, I guess my purpose was to make him proud. God, I hope I made him proud.”

You could feel Reaper’s stare burning into your very soul, “Y/N, look at me and close your eyes.” It might have been phrased as a request, but you knew it was an order. You hear metal clasps coming undone and the sound of something softly being set on your table, “You can open them.” He said softly.

The voice sounded almost familiar to you. You open your eyes and are greeted by the sight of Reaper’s face, without the mask. You reach a trembling hand towards his face, just hovering over the skin of his cheek but not yet touching him, “Gabe?” He leans his face down against your hand and nods. You stare him, unable to move, sure he’s aged a bit, but when you look in his eyes you know it’s him. You’ve never met someone with such expressive eyes. Even if they were currently filled with guilt.

You feel his hand come rest on top of yours, causing you to jerk your hand away as if his touch burned you. You bolted up from the couch and started pacing around the room, coming to stand in front of him, “You died!” You accused him.

You stood there watching as he brought his hand up to rub his head in embarrassment, “Well yes and no. I was out of it for awhile and when I woke up it has been six weeks since the accident had occurred. I was strapped down to a table in a med bay with a familiar face staring at me, yet not the one I wanted. It was Moira and she explained to me I was in a Talon base.” He started somberly here, “Here I was in the heart of the very organization I had dedicated my life to bringing down. I don’t know how much you know about her, but she is a brilliant, albeit slightly mad, geneticist. She is responsible for making me into what I am today. Which means Talon couldn’t let me go, I had skills that they wanted and did not want to part with easily. That is until Widowmaker planned our escape, but that is a story for another time.”

“So, the rumours around the base are true. Do you love her?” You ask pulling your legs up under you, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

A sigh made you look up, “I don’t love her.  I won’t lie to you and said that we never had anything going on, but it was just casual. She had just regained her memories and was mourning for her husband, me…” he trailed off, “Well me, I still wasn’t over you.” You sat there unmoving, watching him lean closer to you and gently pressed his lips against your own ruby red lips. It took a minute to respond, trying to process everything that had happened.

You felt him pull away, probably assuming you weren’t interested from your lack of response when something flipped inside of you. You linked your arms around his neck, pulling him down towards you and captured his lips with your own, kissing him passionately, “Gabe, if this is a dream don’t pinch me. I never want to wake up.”


End file.
